Report: Total Fuckin’ Nerd Failed to Convince Visiting Parents He Was Cool

mrfratstar

Amherst, MA – For most students, a visit from their parents means free food at Johnny’s and Sunday 9AM meetings at the Mead because, son, don’t you know, the day is really already half over by mid-morning?

But for a select few, including Jonathan Dawkins ‘19, a classical musician, chess enthusiast, and 4.0 GPA holder, Parent’s Weekend means constantly lying to his parents, former Greek Life legends and all-around “cool people.”

“You know, I envy those kids who are pressured to perform in school,” Hawkins confided to this Muck-Rake reporter. “Do you know how easy it is to fake good grades to your folks? Just do what half of Amherst does: just claim you’ve got better grades than you really do! But it’s so much harder to fake fratiness – you really need to get into a certain mindset, a certain character.”

“Yeah, mom, we got quite turned last night,” Jonathan could be heard telling his parents as he led them up the stairs to his room in substance-free Valentine dormitory, which he asserted was the social center of campus. “We did a whole handlebar of vodka last night and I had the most. I had thirty, forty shots. All of my friends, you know, the athlete ones I told you about, said I was sick at drinking. We played beer ping pong and got very, very turned.”

In Jonathan’s room, which was covered with freshly taped posters of scantily clad women, Bob Marley, cars, and puns about drinking (“I’m all Beers!”), several dozen condom wrappers had been strewn across the floor. “Oops!” Jonathan said to his parents. “Guess I forgot to clean up my prophylactics that I used during coitus last night!”

His father looked down sullenly.

Meanwhile, Jonathan’s mother crossed the room, flung open Johathan’s closet, and moved the hamper out of the way, uncovering Monopoly, Settlers of Catan, and a stack of immaculate class notes. “Oh and what’s this then, if you’re so busy ‘having coitus’? Are these… board games? Study guides?”

“I’m just holding those for a friend,” Jonathan yelped nervously, crossing the room to shut the door. “Wait, not for a friend! I stole them! From a kid I’m bullying! He’s the nerd!”

“Okay, son,” Mr. Dawkins whispered placatingly, a haunted look in his eyes. “We believe you. Why don’t you tell your mother and I some more about all the weed you smoked?”

“Yeah, Dad. I did ten or eleven doobies last night,” Jonathan quickly jumped in, failing to notice the unshed tears glistening in his father’s eyes.

“I was Psi Kappa social chair at Michigan and Jonathan’s father was nicknamed Bobby Beer Pong at Alabama,” Mrs. Dawkins later told this Muck-Rake reporter. Nearby, Jonathan spread his hands several feet apart to demonstrate to his father the length of the line of coke he had done the night before. “We’re not mad at him,” she said, sighing wistfully, “we’re just…very disappointed.”

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